Bets, Lies and Videotape
by Sassy26
Summary: Rachel & Puck believe they're engaging in a discreet, no-strings arrangement based on a mutual desire for sexual fulfilment - her words, not his. Little do they know, their relationship is not as secret as they think…..M for Smut & Puck's potty mouth.
1. Place your bets

_**A/N: This is my second submission to the Gleeks From Last Night Round Robin I am participating in, along with fellow Puckleberry authors missphenix, 2looney and jlz1. The fics are based on prompts from the Text from Last Night site and you'll find the prompts I was given by the lovely missphenix at the end of the story.**_

_**The LJ community for the RR can be found on my authors page – go check out the other entries!**_

_**This is a super long one shot (yes, I'm wordy, who knew?) that I've divided into 2 parts so you can take a loo break or whatever mid way through or save the conclusion for later (I'm thoughtful, I know!).**_

_**Hugs to Suze and Nikki, my kick ass betas, they make everything better!**_

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Rachel was setting out the chairs for Glee practice when Puck strolled into the room, carelessly dropping his backpack by the piano as he walked towards her. Rachel heard approaching footsteps and turned, meeting his eyes and smiling, "Good afternoon Noah, how are you?"

He glanced around the room to confirm that they were in fact alone and that there were no nosy Gleeks lurking, before grasping her hip and pulling her flush against his body to kiss her hello.

"Hey babe, are we still on for tomorrow tonight?" He asked with a smirk, winding a strand of her dark hair around his finger and tugging it gently.

Her smiled dimmed and she looked up at him, shaking her head in regret. "I'm sorry Noah, but I'm still grounded. I'm not allowed out of the house for anything other than school, dance classes or vocal lessons for the rest of the month."

Puck sighed in annoyance, "You're fucking kidding? But I thought your dad's were going to Columbus for the weekend? Isn't it like, their twentieth anniversary or some shit?"

Rachel beamed up at him, pleased that he had been listening when she had chatted at length about the need to find them the perfect gift earlier in the week. She nodded, "Yes, but their punishment still stands. I will not circumvent their rules just because they are out of town. I respect the boundaries they have enforced and intend to abide by them." She told him seriously.

He groaned, his plans for the weekend that included the party at Mike's house after the game tonight, (where he was sure to drink too much and find an upstairs bedroom, closet or bathroom in which to defile her) looked to be shot to hell. "Ok, well I can just come over to your place after the game and….what?" he asked, irritated, when she started shaking her head.

"I already told you Noah, my fathers don't want you visiting the house without them present to chaperone. I promised." She revealed quietly, watching as he stepped back and ran his hand over his head in frustration.

"Seriously? What the fuck is their problem? I thought gays were supposed to be open minded and shit. They are totally cock blocking me right now and it's not cool!"

"Well," Rachel began shortly, her words clipped with her growing irritation. "I imagine their 'problem' has something to do with the fact that they walked in on their only daughter, stark naked and lying across the kitchen counter with a strange boy between her thighs."

Puck chuckled in remembrance. _Sure, that was probably it._

"A boy," she continued, thrusting her hip out to one side and resting her hand on it as she fixed him with her dark chocolate gaze, "Whom they had never met before but whose name was written across her stomach is chocolate sauce-"

_Yeah, Property of the Puckster…he'd been pissed when he hadn't got to lick that off._

"And who, when asked what on earth was going on in their kitchen, responded with 'just cashing in my coupon to the all-you-can eat Berry buffet.'" Rachel had lowered her voice, imitating Puck's insolent drawl as she said that last bit.

He grinned smugly. It was days later and he still thought that quip was fucking hilarious! He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her back towards him, dipping his head so that he could trail warm kisses across her jaw. She squirmed in his arms and placed her palms flat on his chest, yet made no move to push him away.

"C'mon babe, don't be angry. I get it, your gay daddies are pissed at me – I don't blame them; couldn't have been easy for them to see your perfect little titties covered in whipped cream and your cunt smeared with that Fluff stuff, ready for me to lick it clean off."

Rachel leaned back in his embrace, away from his wandering lips, so she could shoot him a look of disgust. "Can you please refrain from addressing my vagina by the 'c' word? You know I find that term crude and offensive. And I have told you time and time again, that continually addressing my fathers' sexuality when referencing them is tiresome and disrespectful."

He rolled his eyes. 'Got it," he replied flatly. "But seriously Rach, what are we going to do? I miss you."

Her eyes softened at his frank admission, "Really?" she asked quietly, unable to contain the smile that threatened to break out on her lips.

Immediately, he lost the pout he'd been sporting and shrugged, adopting a disinterested 'whatever' expression. "Yeah, I mean, we've been fucking for weeks now; this friends with benefits arrangement is really working for us. I've gotten so used to your crazy – it's been weird not having you around these past couple of days."

Her smile dropped and this time she did push him away. "Yes," she agreed coolly, "I suppose it was wonderful while it was 'working for us'," she tossed his words back at him with fire in her eyes. "I imagine you'll be seeking out my replacement at any time, now that I'm not conveniently available to you. I'll miss it, your attention I mean. I don't know what I'll do without waking up to your texts of 'Seeexxxxxxxx please. NOW.' " She drew out the word mockingly, just as he always typed it when he wanted her to meet him somewhere. "They were particularly charming." Rachel turned her back on him and crossed to the piano, shuffled her music and vowing to give him the silent treatment until at least the end of practice.

Puck watched her flounce away, pausing to admire the expanse of leg on display before dutifully following her as he was sure she was expecting. She pretended to ignore him as she felt him stop behind her, but when he trapped her against the piano with a strong arm braced on either side of her and the solidness of his frame pressing against her back, she couldn't disregard the way her skin tingled in response to his nearness.

"You love my texts, don't fucking deny it. Anyway, you know I don't mean anything by them." he placated, his voice low and husky in her ear. "I'm just playing. C'mon baby, M'sorry k?" She shivered as his hot breath blew across her neck and her fingers tightened on the sheet music she held.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she stated frostily in a tone that belied the warmth pooling between her thighs. "We agreed to a no strings relationship based on a mutual desire for sexual fulfilment. Since I am currently unavailable to satisfy your incessant carnal urges, it's only natural that you waste no time in searching for someone else to entice into your truck during free periods."

"Lose the fucking attitude Rachel," Puck demanded, impatient now as he grasped her elbow and spun her to face him, her back now against the baby grand. "You know that sex is not all that's going on here."

"Do I?" She looked up at him, her dark gaze searching his. "That's what we agreed to after all. You certainly haven't insinuated you desire anything more from our little arrangement." He glared at her and Rachel crossed her arms over her chest as she stared back defiantly.

"Don't be a fucking drama queen." It was his turn to roll his eyes, "You and Hudson only just broke up after like, dating forever and you were the one concerned about how it would look if people caught you staring moon eyes in my direction and drawing love hearts and shit with my initials in 'em on your binder,"

"I don't do anything of the sort." She spluttered.

He grinned, "Yeah you do. S'cool baby. I don't give a shit if people know we're together, you're the one insisting we keep this on the d-l frequency."

Her arms dropped to her sides and her anger faded, "You're right, I'm being irrational. I _do_ want to keep this just between us, for now. I just wish that-" she broke off.

"You wish what?" he prompted. Puck stepped closer, sliding his thigh in between her legs as he leant forward, his nose brushing against hers. She rested her hands on his biceps, letting her fingers dip underneath the edge of his plain black t-shirt and press lightly into his skin.

"I wish that when it's just us, you would acknowledge that what we have isn't just physical."

There was a flash of vulnerability in her eyes and he had to take a moment to remind himself that she wasn't like the other girls he fucked around with. She needed validation and reassurance and all that other shit that if it was any other chick he'd say to hell with it, put it in the too hard basket, and hit up the next cougar that crossed his path needing her pipes cleaned.

But there was something about Rachel Berry that had kept him enthralled for longer than he cared to admit, and recently hers was the only skirt he had been interested in getting under. "You know I only want you. Rach," he told her quietly, cupping her face with his palms, and stroking his thumb along her cheekbone. She leaned into his touch. "I'm not going to trade you in for some skank, I'm just pissed that your dads are denying me your hands," His fingers slid down his torso to grasp hers, "Your mouth," he murmured against her lips as he kissed her slowly, "And your-"

"Don't say it!" Rachel clapped her free hand over his mouth as his knee lifted between her slightly parted thighs to rub against her crotch. She felt his lips stretch into a smirk under her palm as his hands dropped to her hips, running over the material of her skirt before dipping underneath.

He drew large circles on the back of her thighs with his fingertips as he kissed her again. "If I can't see you outside of school, I guess I'll just have to sex you up here during the day."

She kissed him back, her fingers bunching in the front of his shirt. "We can't have sex at school, Noah. Someone will catch us."

Puck grinned and shook his head, "Nah, they won't. I'm stealthy, like a mother fucking sex ninja. Nothing will stop me from getting at ya, don't worry, Rach. I know all the best spots."

"I bet you do," she replied ruefully, pressing herself closer to him.

"I'm missing you like crazy baby, no lie." He muttered, licking at her lower lip. "I'm hard for you all the fucking time - can you feel it?" His knee dropped and he rolled his hips against hers, letting her feel his erection, straining against the zipper of his jeans.

"Noah," she moaned quietly when his wandering digits fingered the edge of her panties, "We can't. Not here, someone will-"

At that moment, she heard the unmistakable sound of Kurt's high falsetto as he and Mercedes walked through the door to the choir room. Puck and Rachel jumped apart guiltily and she turned back to the sheet music on top of the piano as Puck made a beeline for a chair at the back and sank into it, resting his foot on the opposite knee to hide the evidence of his raging erection.

Kurt and Mercedes exchanged sly looks before dropping into two seats in the front row and continued their discussion without bothering to greet the two already present.

When the rest of the glee club filed in and Mr. Schuester arrived, Kurt whipped out his cell phone and sent a quick text to his bff, despite the fact she was sitting right next to him.

_**K: Did you see them? Now tell me I'm imagining it!**_

_**M: I saw it, who would have thought? Whiteboy and Diva… on AGAIN?**_

_**K: Why the secrecy tho? Her idea, or his?**_

Mercedes covertly glanced between the two in question. Puck was trying to convey boredom as his eyes prowled the room but his gaze kept on returning to the diminutive brunette (or more specifically, her legs). Rachel in turn bit her lip in a way that Mercedes could describe only as coy, when she noticed where his interest lay.

_**M: Hers. You see those looks she's giving him? I'll bet you my entire Cosmo collection that they're doing the nasty & she wants it to fly under the radar.**_

Kurt took his time in studying the two of them as the rest of the Gleeks chatted noisily around them. He nodded and sent a final text back.

_**K: You're on. Your Cosmo in xchange for 6 months of my world famous facial massages…. & $20 says it all blows up in less than a week.**_

Mercedes gave him a discreet thumbs up just as Mr. Schue came over, a stack of sheet music in his hands that he began to distribute to the group. Kurt grinned triumphantly and fought the urge to cackle. Everyone knew Puck's attention span was shorter than a Cheerio skirt; he'd be done with Rachel and making the moves on some other poor, unsuspecting female freshman faster than Kurt could say high end couture. Those Cosmos were as good as his.

***/***

Quinn was in the library checking out a book to assist with her history assignment when she saw them and she couldn't help but stop to watch their interaction, curious to see whether Kurt and Mercedes were correct in saying that the couple mockingly dubbed Puckleberry, were indeed back on. She sat through hours of speculation about them the night before as she hung out with the two best friends, painting her nails in Mercedes' room while the Fashionista made up an elaborate posterboard in which to keep track of the betting pool he started on how long the couple would last and in what way their torrid affair would become public knowledge.

She had scoffed at first because everyone knew that Stubbles was not the 'no strings,' casual relationship type and the last girl Puck had been serious about was, well, Quinn - and _hello_, Rachel Berry was certainly not in Quinn Fabray's league. But seeing the two of them now, Rachel obviously attempting to do homework as Puck leaned in close to her and did his best to distract her with a series of pokes, gentle tugging on her hair and whispered words in her ear that made the petite brunette blush and whisper a scandalized, _"Noah!"_

Whatever he had said, Puck was proud as he leaned so the seat tipped back on two legs and smirked, trailing his fingers down Rachel's bare arm. Intrigued, Quinn slipped between an aisle of books and tip toed closer to where the two were 'studying'.

"I kindly offered my assistance to ensure you were adequately prepared for your midterms Noah, but you are quite obviously determined to do nothing to help yourself." She tapped the page of his text book sternly with the end of her pen. "Read," she ordered, fixing him with a look that had made Finn practically wet his pants whenever he'd been on the receiving end of it during the time he and Rachel had dated.

Puck though refused to be intimidated. He merely rolled his eyes and set his chair back on all fours. "C'mon Rach, we've been going at this for-fucking-ever."

"We've been here for 15 minutes, Noah." Rachel corrected him.

"Like I said, an eternity. Can we take a break?"

Quinn watched as Rachel arched her eyebrow and graced him with a reluctant smile. "You know as well as I do that when we 'take a break' you manage to sufficiently distract me in ways that allow all thoughts of homework and GPA's to completely slip my mind."

"So that's a 'hell yes Puck, I'm not wearing any panties?'" He asked hopefully.

"Nice try," Rachel returned wryly as she stood, smoothing down her skirt. "I'm going to find additional resources to supplement your notes – or lack there of. I'll be in the biology section."

He waited all of 10 seconds before following her and Quinn ducked as they entered the aisle over from her. Rachel was facing away from her as she ran her finger over the spines of books on physiology, biochemistry and genetics when Puck sidled up behind her and snuck his hand around her waist to pull her back against his chest.

"Noah! What do you think you're doing?" Rachel hissed, looking around as his hand disappeared under her skirt.

"Studying," he chuckled as he tugged gently on her earlobe with his teeth.

She tried to slap his offending hand away. "No, we are not having a repeat of Mrs Leverson's 3rd period English class." She managed to free herself and spun around, glaring, her hands finding her hips.

Puck reached out and brushed his thumb sensually over her lower lip. "S'not like we got caught babe, and you aced the shit out of that pop quiz."

Quinn marvelled at the brilliant shade of purple, spreading across Rachel's face. "Jacob Ben-Israel asked if he could sniff your fingers." she reminded him tightly, her knee bouncing as she tapped her foot. "While that is not one of his more eccentric requests, the timing of it suggests that someone did in fact catch us and that someone already spends an inordinate amount of time ogling my person. I would like to keep our dalliances during school hours to a minimum if you don't mind, as to not give anyone the opportunity to discover us in flagrante delicto."

He stared at her dumbly before his eyes darkened with arousal. "Holy fuck, babe, you know how hot I get when you talk French." She could only mutter that it was Latin before he was crushing her body to him and devouring her mouth with undisguised hunger.

Quinn was gaping at what she had just learned - undeniable proof of Kurt and Mercedes' claim. She was disgusted as she imagined the scenario that had just been described (for god's sake, yes they were teenagers but there was something to be said for impulse control!), but knowing Jacob's unhealthy obsession with Rachel, she found herself almost sympathetic to the other girl and the unwelcome attention that would have at least quadrupled since the incident.

Rachel appeared to go pliant in his arms and when he finally left her mouth to trail his lips down her neck, her head was lolling to the side and her eyes were closed. "Noah," she breathed unsteadily. "This is not helping you with your biology midterm."

"Sure it is," he corrected, sliding his hand up to cup her breast through her white polka dotted sweater. "I'm studying anatomy right now. Quiz me. I can multi task." He massaged the area roughly as his other hand once again slipped under the drab grey skirt she was wearing.

"B-b-but anatomy isn't part of your curriculum this semester. You're supposed to be studying cellular functions." She tried to protest weakly.

"Revision, baby. Gotta keep on top of that shit, right?"

"Ahhh," her lips parted as she pressed her chest into his palm, while her fingers circled his other wrist and halted his exploration of her panty clad region. "Noah, wait. How am I supposed to formulate the questions for you if you're-" Quinn saw Puck's hand move under the material of Rachel's skirt and the brunette's eyes rolled back into her head as her lips parted and an "unf" blew out from between them.

Quinn bit her own lip in remembrance of what those fingers were capable of; The one time they'd been together, Puck had removed her spanks and worked her furiously until there weren't enough Hail Mary's in the entire world to make up for the number of times she'd spoken (or more accurately, moaned) the Lord's name in vain.

Puck turned his attention to a particular spot below Rachel's ear as she fought against the waves of pleasure his touch was evoking. "Stop!" she managed to cry out softly with enough conviction to have the jock halted his movements and check her expression to see if she was serious. He must have decided she was because his hand reappeared and after wiping his fingers on his jeans, it settled on her waist.

"Babe?" He questioned cautiously, trying to gauge exactly how much trouble he was in. Rachel glanced around the aisle and Quinn pressed closer to the floor so she couldn't be seen. When she hazarded another peek, Rachel was tugging Puck further down the aisle and tucking herself in the narrow space between two sets of shelves, pulling Puck closer. In the next aisle, Quinn crawled along on her hands and knees and quietly pushed some books aside so she had a better visual from her new vantage point.

"The major building blocks of the cell membrane are what?" Rachel asked as she looked up at him. Her eyes were molten as she struggled to win back the control in this game of wills, her hands settling low on his stomach.

Puck snorted. "Seriously babe? You're quizzing me? I was joking. C'mon we can study later; my dick's hard right now. It's called prioritizing or, you know" he paused, "striking while the iron's hot and babe," he waggled his eyebrow, "you know I'm fucking hot."

Rachel giggled and reached up on her tip toes to kiss him briefly, "You promised me you'd study," she whined, "Think of how impressed my fathers will be if your report card showed a marked improvement over your last one? They'll know that our spending time together has had a positive impact on you – and not just on your libido." She gave him a naughty smirk that he just knew she stole off him and he groaned.

He pushed her hand away as he fumbled with his belt, cursing in relief when he managed to get it undone and unzip his pants so his aching cock was no longer straining against the denim. He grabbed for her hand and pressed it against where he needed her the most. "Give me an incentive," he demanded roguishly.

Rachel huffed before once again glanced surreptitiously around the empty aisle and looking back at him. "Answer the question, Noah." she cajoled softly as her hand snaked into his boxers to draw him out.

In the aisle over from the oblivious couple, Quinn choked back a strangled sound that was half shock, half arousal as she was treated to a glimpse of his hardness, impossibly large and utterly imposing in Rachel's hand. She'd felt how big he was of course – _Lord, had she felt it!_ – but the night Puck had taken her virginity had been all about her. He had been surprisingly sweet and had made sure she reached orgasm twice before pushing into her. There'd been a little pain and then that blinding pleasure that had seemed so effortless for him to give. Afterwards though, she'd been confused and bitter, and had shoved his clothes at him before pushing him out her door.

She hadn't taken the time to explore his body the way Rachel seemed so eager to do. Staring at him now, his jaw clenched and his manhood so gloriously erect and ready to deliver good on all the promises countless girls had swore him capable of, all thoughts of her own boyfriend, Sam, and her newly imposed celibacy flew clear out the window. Once again Quinn found herself glaring at the petite Diva with green-eyed jealousy.

"Phospholipids" he managed to reply. Rachel beamed up at him and rewarded his answer with a quick flick of her wrist.

"Very good," she praised. "Next question. In addition to phosphate, a phospholipid is made of what?"

"Rach," Puck pleaded, thrusting into her hand. His head fell onto her shoulder and he breathed deeply as he glanced down between their bodies and saw her tiny fingers grasped around him, moving up and down in a gentle caress.

"Concentrate," she urged, lifting the shoulder his forehead was resting against to dislodge him, then pausing to kiss his chin. "What's the answer, Noah?"

"You're a fucking cock tease," he grumbled, his fingers digging into her hips as she cupped his balls and squeezed. His heated green gaze met hers and Rachel merely arched her eyebrow, waiting.

"Glycerol." His head dipped and he bit at her pulse point, satisfied when she shuddered. Quinn could tell they were caught up in some elaborate competition, each wanting to up their game and have the other give in and beg for something. Release, she supposed. What they were doing here was completely inappropriate given their location; but arousing nonetheless.

"And?" Rachel prompted, her breath catching. He felt her knee brush the inside of his thigh as she shifted restlessly and he hid his smile in her hair. She was soooooo ready for him. He crowded her back into her hiding spot and imagined just yanking aside her panties and burying himself inside her wet heat. He knew that she would never go for it though, not in the fucking library where anyone could catch them.

He had to take what he could get.

"And….four, no! _Two_ fatty acids." he expelled in a rush, his lips brushing across her cheek as they moved lower.

"Yes!" she squealed proudly, determinedly evading the mouth that had zeroed in on hers.

He sighed. Her touch was much too light; he needed more damn it! He reached down and covered her hand with his. "Harder," he demanded, trying vainly to lace their fingers together to hurry her along. She shook him off and he pouted. "C'mon baby that's two for two. That's gotta be worth something."

"One more correct answer and I'll finish you off," she promised, her touch still feather light and teasing.

"Fine," he caved. "Quick, aske me."

"List the correct order of the mitotic stages."

Puck blinked, his mind scrambling to come up with the answer as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip in that way she knew drove him crazy. "Ah….fuck! Prophase, metaphase…."

Rachel was nodding, her smile triumphant as she tightened her fist.

"Shit, um anaphase, telophase…." Puck's recitation became garbled and Quinn decided she'd seen - and heard - more than enough. She darted from her hiding spot, her cheeks flushed and a dull ache pulsating between her thighs as she fled the library, the book she required for her History class long forgotten.

Her face was still red as she slipped $20 into Mercedes hand in the lunch line, whispering, "Homecoming – Puck refuses to take her and Rachel attends with someone else," she paused, her pink lips pursed. "Perhaps Matt? I know she's made an effort to keep in contact with him since he transferred and as a former student, it would be easy for her to get permission for him to attend."

Mercedes nodded encouragingly, those were good guesses and the wager actually had a possibility of paying off for her friend. Quinn smiled, displaying a row of perfectly straight pearly whites as her eyes narrowed and she continued. "Puck shows up and flies into a rage. He announces to everyone that she's been putting out for him, effectively ruining her reputation." There was an edge of maliciousness to her tone that had Mercedes shifting uncomfortably; it seemed Quinn was taking far too much pleasure in imagining the results of that particular scenario.

She edged away from the blonde with a smile, clutching her lunch tray and the $20 in her hands. "Okay Quinn, I'll pass this onto Kurt. If Homecoming passes and nothing happens, your money becomes part of the betting pool. You can then bet more money and guess again."

Quinn's smile only widened, "Oh, I will not lose." She stated confidently. She turned on her heel without grabbing anything for lunch and walked away in her customary pose – hands on hips and her chin tilted as she stared everyone ahead of her out of her path. Now, she just had to stick close to the midget on the night of the Homecoming Dance so she was treated to a front row seat to the inevitable carnage. She hadn't picked out her dress yet, but she was thinking blood red might be appropriate….

***/***

Santana was strolling past the janitor's closet on her way to Cheerio practice when she heard a low moan and frantic breathing. She paused, a wicked smile lighting her face as she leant her head towards the door, listening intently.

"Fuck baby, do you know I've been thinking about this all day? I just wanted to throw you across the table at lunch earlier and eat fucking _you_. You're driving me insane."

She knew that guttural sex voice. She'd heard it often enough, albeit not recently, to know that it belonged to Lima's resident bad boy and self professed (and undisputed) sex god - Noah Puckerman. The question was, what lucky bitch did he have locked up in there with him? Santana pressed her ear to the door as she tried to think back to see if she had noticed Puck paying attention to one girl in particular, frowning when she realized the jock had been quite elusive in the last few weeks. She had figured he'd been chasing skirt, seeing as though he had ignored most of her sexts and blatantly refused on two occasions to meet up with her when her parents were out.

Puck grunted and then there was the sound of an ear piercing shriek that had Santana leaning back slightly before eagerly shifting closer to the door, determined now to learn the identity of Puck's latest conquest.

"Shit baby, you gotta keep it down. I know you're a screamer but we can't get caught. Your dads will lose their shit and extradite you to Israel if they found out, and you know I'd miss you too much."

_Dads? Plural?_ Santana's eyes widened. _No fucking way….Manhands?_

She heard Puck hiss and then – yes that _was_ Rachel moaning breathily, "Please Noah, _now_. Stop teasing me. I need you so badly." She was practically sobbing.

He chuckled lowly, a sound that had goose bumps breaking out all over Santana's skin. She had once prided herself on being somewhat of an expert on the sounds Puck made during sex, and that chuckle? That meant on a horny scale of 1-10 he was off the fucking charts. Her best ever orgasms had come (pun intended) after a chuckle like that and she never thought she'd see the day when she wished she could trade places with a chick who wore animal sweaters and freaking knee socks!

"What are you doing?" Santana jumped guiltily and spun around, sighing in relief as she saw Brittany standing behind her. She grabbed the blonde's arm and yanked her closer, gesturing wordlessly at the locked door. Brittany's eyebrow furrowed into her customary expression of vague confusion until a duet of moans sounded from behind the locked door.

"Oh my god, is that Puck is there?"

Brittany too had taken a tumble in the sheets with the Puckerone, and had rounded the bases in his truck before, during or after school on more than one occasion. _His 'Fuck yeah, baby. Take it!_' was a phrase both girls were well versed in.

Santana was nodding, a naughty grin stretching out over her full lips. "With who?" Brittany asked, wide eyed.

A series of high pitched _'Noah! Noah! Noah!'s'_ that synchronized with the measured pounding against the locked door was confirmation enough. No one other than Rachel-fucking-Berry dared to call Puck by his first name. Perceptively, Santana had to remind herself that no one else was _allowed_ to.

Brittany was mumbling something to herself about Puckleberries and Finchels, that Santana just couldn't follow (what the fuck was a Finchel? It sounded like a damn disease), when the warning bell sounded and she reluctantly dragged her friend in the direction of the gymnasium.

The next day, after a quick conversation with the born-again Chastity Queen, Santana cornered Hummel at his locker as he was primping and pressed a $50 bill into his hand. "Brittany's betting on Berry going back to Finn, and I think she'll lose her shit over Puck flirting with some other girl and dump him in front of Glee club after singing him some bitter, lame-ass break up ballad."

Kurt hurriedly opened his notebook and scribbled as she talked. "Time frame?" he asked.

Santana paused to consider. Puck was a dog, but judging by the sounds emanating from that closet, Berry was dynamite in the sack. She knew Puck; he wouldn't want to let Rachel go until he was sure he'd ridden the crazy train to the end of the track, to ensure he hadn't missed anything and had enjoyed the full experience. "Two weeks." She held up two fingers before spinning around and flouncing off down the hall. She halted as she went to pass Rachel's locker and stared at the girl long enough to make her fidget and blink her big brown eyes at her as she asked tentatively, "Santana, is something wrong?"

The Cheerio licked her lips as her eyes raked over the length of olive thigh on display as the pathetic excuse for a skirt Berry was wearing today ended just below her ass.

"You ever want a break from the cock, you call me a'right?"

Rachel could only nod, dumbfounded, as the Latina strode away, commanding attention as she sashayed her hips, her ponytail bobbing as she walked.

She blinked, her gaze following Santana all the way down the hall. _Well, that was odd. _

***/***

Mike had always thought that Artie was a cool guy, and since his girlfriend was trying to reclaim the friendship she'd once had with the wheelchair bound boy - a friendship that had fallen into tatters since the two Asians had found each other - he thought maybe he should make an effort to hang out with him some more. It wasn't a case of keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer, 'cause no, seriously he liked Artie. What he didn't like was the way the dude's bespectacled gaze seemed to be always trained in the direction of his Goth princess.

He was secure in his relationship with Tina, he was. They'd recently exchanged I love yous, and they were pretty close to naked good times, but after having his girlfriend admit during a game of 20 questions in his bedroom that she had always thought her first time would be with Wheels, Mike had been fighting an incessant urge to figure out what made the guy tick and what exactly it was that had attracted Tina to him in the first place.

So anyway, there it was, the reason why Mike was wheeling Artie into the AV room during the free period after lunch one day, under the guise of asking him for advice on shooting technique using the video camera his parents had brought him so he could film, and later improve upon, his dancing.

Mike's nose screwed up as they entered the room, the distinct scent of sweat, sex and perfume permeating the air. Artie, who hadn't nearly an eighth of the sexual experience Mike had enjoyed prior to committing to Tina, wasn't bothered by the smell so much as the ransacked appearance of his not-so-secret haven. Chairs were overturned, papers were crumpled and thrown around the room, and there was equipment jostled and out of place.

"Dude," Mike stated, "I think someone's been messing around in here." He meant sexual shenanigans of course but Artie assumed he was insinuating something practical joke wise and frowned.

He wheeled himself over to the monitor and keyboard set up in the corner. "Jacob Ben-Israel," he muttered darkly. "Ever since we kicked him out of the club for planting bugs in Rachel's bedroom, he's been sneaking in here trying to locate and download the audio from the server."

His fingers flew over the keys and after typing out a long sequence of characters, a security feed appeared on the monitor. Mike recognized the back of his head and spun around towards the far wall. "Whoa!"

"In the corner, behind the loud speaker," Artie gestured and Mike strolled over, craning his neck to see that yes, there was really a security camera hidden in the room. "We installed that when the Hockey team was continually break in here to play practical jokes on us." Artie explained.

Mike snickered. "What kind of practical jokes?" he wanted to know.

"The usual; taping down the balls under the mouses, unplugging all the cabling, super gluing staplers and text books to the desks…." He continued typing and then turned to Mike, "I've rewound the tape. This classroom isn't used after 4th period on Wednesdays so we should be looking for any activity after 11am."

Mike walked back over and stood beside Artie's wheelchair, his arms crossed. "Ok, but should we really be watching this?"

Artie pushed his glasses up on his face, "What do you mean?" He asked in confusion.

Mike grinned, "Dude, you have no idea do you? Can't you smell it? Somebody went to Funkytown in here. This tape is gonna show like, school porn."

Artie stared at him and then a slow smile spread over his face, "Then why wouldn't we want to watch it?" he asked slyly.

Mike chuckled and held his hand out for a fist bump and then they both stared intently at the screen as the tape fast forwarded. "There!" Mike pointed to the screen as he saw two figures enter. Artie stopped the tape and then pressed play. They both laughed as they saw a very familiar Mohawked teenager corral a short brunette into the room, his frame blocking the girl's face from the camera. "Of course it was Puck," Mike rolled his eyes, leaning forward a bit. "But who's the chick?"

For a while all they could see was Puck's back and small feminine hands gripping his shoulders as the sound of low murmurs, wet kissing and soft panting echoed around the silent classroom. After a few minutes, he tugged off his shirt with the help of those tiny feminine hands and leaned forward, obviously laying the girl down over the desk.

Both Mike and Artie looked sideways at that same desk, shifting uncomfortably.

"Baby," Puck groaned his hips thrusting forward, "I can feel how fucking wet you are through your panties. You were fantasizing about this is Math, weren't you? I knew you weren't paying attention to that shit." His elbow was tucked into his side, its movement indicating that his hand was hard at work. From the breathy moans that steadily increased in volume, it wasn't difficult to guess what he was doing to her.

In no time at all he was unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans and boxers down to his knees. Mike was screwing up his face as he and Artie were subjected to the sight of their friends naked behind. "Ah, maybe this isn't such a good idea. I dunno that I want to watch this now that I know it's_ Puck_ fucking some random chick. It feels wrong."

Artie murmured in agreement and reached for the mouse to click stop when the girl hooked her leg around the back of Puck's thigh.

She was wearing white knee socks.

Mike gaped, "Duuuuuude, is that-"

Artie was shaking his head in horror, "No! It can't be….there's no way. She wouldn't….not during school….not _Puck_." He seemed unable to formulate a whole sentence.

"Dude!" Mike said again, slapping Artie's shoulder. Both of their gazes were still transfixed on the smooth, tanned leg on display and the brown penny loafer digging into Puck's ass. He shifted slightly and they caught a flash of a familiar yellow and black plaid skirt - the same skirt they had both seen Rachel flouncing around in earlier that day. "Who else do you know in this school that wears those kinky-as-fuck skirt and knee sock combinations?"

"But…but….Rachel?" Artie practically whimpered, shaking his head in denial even as he found himself unable to tear his eyes from the screen. At that moment Puck leant further over, one hand gripping the leg wrapped around him, moving it higher, while his other armed seemed to grip the far side of the desk as he snapped his hips forward.

"Oh Noah!" And then there she was, immortalized on film – her face contorted in ecstasy as her back arched and her face became clearly visible over Puck's shoulder.

"Turn it off, turn it off!" Mike shrieked frantically, his hands flying up to his face to cover his eyes. He couldn't watch anymore. He'd just caught a flash of boob and sure, Rachel was hot in a sneaky, understated way, but he figured if Puck caught on to the show they had just witnessed, he and Wheels would be buried in the bottom of the dumpster before they even knew what was happening.

Artie looked solemnly at Mike as he clicked the mouse twice in quick succession and the word _**ERASING**_ flashed across the screen. "What happens in the AV room, stays in the AV room." He said gravely and Mike nodded in agreement.

Except it didn't quite work out that way.

To Mike's dismay, he was required to partner up with Rachel that very afternoon in Glee club to choreograph a routine for a new number they were performing at a Gala at the Lima Country Club in a few weeks time. From watching him fidget, Tina knew right away that something was up. He was unable to make eye contact with Rachel for the entire hour and he involuntarily flinched every time Puck came within two feet of him. After barely any prodding from his girlfriend, Mike found himself caving and telling her the whole story as he gave her a ride home.

The next day, Kurt approached him just as he was exiting his English class, fiddling with the strap of his leather satchel and he tapped the toe of those black knee high riding boots he was so fond of wearing.

"So," Kurt ventured smugly, "Watched any good movies lately?"

He heard giggling and Mike's head whipped around to see Tina and Mercedes huddled together by a row of lockers, pretending (unsuccessfully) they weren't watching the exchange. A few minutes later when Kurt walked away, clutching a fistful of crumpled bills in his hand – the last of Mike's allowance for the week – Artie rolled up looking decidedly unhappy.

"What happened to the cone of silence?" he wanted to know, frowning up at Mike.

The Asian sighed and shrugged, "Tina goaded it out of me," he smiled apologetically.

Artie just rolled his eyes, "So Kurt found you? What did you bet?"

"Next football game," Mike answered. "I know Tina was planning on dragging Rachel along and I figured there'd be a good chance some Cheerio is cheering and flirting with Puck, and Rachel would lose her shit. Puck can't deal with the drama and tells her it's over. You?"

"I put $30 on the two of them getting caught by a teacher. Let's face it, they're not exactly shy about doing it during school hours and I overheard Ms Pillsbury tell Mr. Schuester that Rachel's dad's contacted her, concerned about her sexual promiscuity after they caught her in a compromising position with a boy at her house."

Mike whistled lowly, "I wonder how long this has been going on?"

Artie shrugged and at precisely that moment they saw Rachel walking down the hall, her pink trolley in tow and the black skirt she was wearing that day bouncing against her thighs.

"Good afternoon Artie, Michael." She greeted cordially as she passed. If she noticed that their eyes immediately dropped to the ground as she passed, and their cheeks turned that little bit pinker, she was gracious enough not to comment.

_**On to part 2...**_


	2. Never bet against a Puckeman

Puck coasted to a stop at a red light, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips jerked and his toes curled in his boots. "Fuck baby, yeah just like that." One hand remained on the wheel as the other tangled itself in silky brown tresses. "Shit Rach, you have a mouth like a fucking Hoover!"

He looked down to see her gazing up at him and as their eyes locked, she hummed around his shaft, easing off him to swirl her tongue around the tip before once again taking him deep in her throat, never breaking eye contact. She looked fucking hot, kneeling on the floor of his truck, the top three buttons of her blouse undone from his earlier exploration and her peach coloured push up bra lifting her perky little tits up to his lustful gaze.

He grunted, guiding her movements as she bobbed up and down on his cock – not that she needed direction. If cock sucking was part of their school curriculum, Rachel Berry would get an A-fucking-plus on every oral exam. Hell, she could _teach_ the class, that's how mad her skills were.

Puck eased off the brake as the light turned green and carefully turned the corner, his pace slow as he merged with the after school traffic on Main St. "Better hurry baby," he teased, "We're almost at your house and you know if I don't cum, I don't mind just parking in your driveway till your done. Your daddy works from home on Tuesdays, doesn't he? Think he'll come out to investigate?" When he glanced back down it was to see her eyes flash as she scraped her teeth along his sensitive flesh. "Easy," he laughed, fisting her hair and giving in a warning tug. "If you damage the equipment you'll only be hurting yourself babe."

She released him with an audible pop, her hands resting on his knees. "Really Noah, I'm trying to do something nice for you, something you've been begging me for all week, and the more you talk, the less I feel inclined to ensure you are adequately taken care of. So kindly refrain from saying anything else or I promise you, this," she paused, taking his throbbing erection in her hand and squeezing lightly, "is something you'll need to take care of yourself today."

"I didn't beg," he muttered, sighing when she smirked and arched her eyebrow. "Ok, ok. I'm sorry. Shit. Just-" he tried to lead her back to his cock. "Please baby," he stroked her cheek with his finger when she wouldn't budge, his eyes darting from the road to her and back again. "Please Rach," he tried again. "You know no one can suck me off better than you. I need you to deep throat me and I promise, later, I'll sneak through your window when your dad's are making dinner and give it to you good – any way you want it."

That was quite the offer, but..."You're not allowed to come over," she reminded him quietly, smiling slightly at his frustration and the pleading quality to his voice.

"Well I'll cum _under_ you then, whatevs," his tone was desperate now. "Rach," he groaned, "You're fucking killing me here."

She was smiling as she took him into her mouth again, running her tongue along his length and sucking furiously until his hips were jerking off the seat and his cursing became long, guttural moans punctuated by something that sounded like her name but was more of a stuttered "R-r-r-r-a-" than anything else.

The screech of brakes and the impact of the truck's bumper colliding with something that caused a loud crunching of metal had Rachel gasping and choking around him as she pitched forward and then lost her balance. His hands protected her head from smashing against the console when gravity had her falling back, and once she realized what had happened, she went to release him again.

"NO!" he shouted as held her in place and pushed her closer as he thrust into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat once, twice and, as she whimpered from the tightness of his fingers in her hair, she swallowed, squeezing his dick in the best possible way. On the third thrust he came in a blinding rush. He massaged her scalp where he knew it would be tender as he rode out his orgasm and she continued to swallow everything he gave her. "You're so good at that baby, so, so fucking good." He murmured hoarsely, finally allowing her to pull away.

"Noah Puckerman!" she screeched heatedly, wiping her mouth delicately as he stuffed himself back into his pants and steered the truck to the shoulder with one hand before engaging the emergency brake and turning on his hazard lights. "I cannot believe you!" she fumed, "What on earth-"

"Hold that thought," he told her, his eyes fixed through the windshield as his hand went to the handle. Puck spared her a glance as he opened his door and he paused, his gaze apologetic as he offered his hand to help her off the floor and back to her seat before he hopped out.

Rachel straightened and re-buttoned her blouse as her angry gaze followed him, her mouth dropping into an O of surprise as she took in the silver Bentley parked on the side of the road just ahead, a sizeable dent in its rear end. As Puck strode towards it, an older, portly gentlemen got out, his face red with rage. She couldn't hear what they were saying but she was somewhat proficient at lip reading and was astounded to note that the older gentleman's language was just as colorful as Noah's and he had the animated hand gestures to effectively convey the depth of his anger. As they walked behind the Bentley to inspect the damage, Puck was nodding sheepishly at whatever was being said (yelled) at him with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Rachel saw him attempt to respond on more than one occasion but he was cut off before he had the chance to form even one syllable.

Finally, he threw his hands up in frustration and swaggered back to the truck, meeting her gaze and making a motion that she should wind down the window. When he reached the passenger side he leaned through the open window and brushed his fingers over her knee lightly before opening the glove box to retrieve his insurance details. The other driver was in tow, still bitching about the damage.

"Dude, look, you just have to chill out." Puck drawled over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at Rachel.

"Chill out? CHILL OUT?" By this stage his face had turned purple and Rachel was genuinely worried that he was in danger of suffering a coronary. "That is a $200,000 vehicle; I only _just_ drove it out of the showroom. How calm do you think you'd be if it were yours and some punk ass kid with a mother-fucking Mohawk ran up your ass? What the hell were you thinking?"

Puck smirked, casually leaning his forearm against the side of his own dirty green vehicle. "You see my girl right here?" He gestured to the girl in question who was doing her best to make herself seem invisible as she tried to shrink back into the seat, knowing (and dreading) what was about to come out of her sort-of boyfriend's mouth next.

He didn't disappoint. "See, when she has that talented little mouth around my cock, the only thing I'm thinking is 'No gag reflex? Fuck yeah!' You get what I'm saying?"

The man spluttered, his embarrassment second only to Rachel's own mortification. "I am going to kill you," she promised lowly, holding her hands to her flaming cheeks.

The wail of a single siren and the flashing lights of a cop car slowing down and pulling over to assess the situation had Rachel reaching for her bag and rummaging around in it for her cell phone. "I cannot believe I allow you to coerce me into these situations," she spat tightly. "I'm calling Tina to come and pick me up. I refuse to get arrested because you can't keep you mouth shut."

The other driver had hurried over to meet the police officer and Puck was watching the two of them completely unconcerned. "Actually babe," he had the gall to chuckle. "I think we're in this situation because you couldn't keep_ your_ mouth shut."

She gaped at his audacity. "Anyways, you won't get arrested." He placated. "We'll most likely get a fine, a minor misdemeanor. It's just a tiny mark on your record, no biggie."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "I don't know which is worse, the fact that you think a misdemeanor and a criminal record is 'no biggie' or that this has happened to you so many times you know what to expect."

He sighed and met her gaze, "Look Rach, I'm sorry ok? You wont get in any trouble, just – don't leave. I'll sort this out and I'll take you home. You're dads' know I was supposed to give you a lift, I don't want them seeing you rock up with Tina instead. Who knows what they'll think and I don't want to give them any other reason to hate my guts. I'd really like to see you outside of school sometime this century, you know?"

His frown at the thought of her fathers' keeping them separated made the last of her anger diminish. "I doubt my fathers will be changing their minds about you should I come home today with a police officer in tow." She replied tartly, even as she smiled reluctantly at him. He was just so darn attractive, she could never stay angry for long. "Best you go ensure that doesn't happen." She shooed him towards the police officer, her grip on her phone relaxing.

Puck nodded and sneaked a quick kiss before swaggering back towards the Bentley, where the tall, blonde officer was writing in his notebook as he listened to the other driver's fresh rant. Undetected by Puck, Rachel or the Bentley driver, there was another pair of eyes surveying the scene with interest.

Sam Evans had aspired to go into law enforcement his whole life. His father was a cop, his grandfather had been a cop and his great-grandfather had been on the force before he took a bullet in World War II. He made it his mission to keep himself in top physical form and worked hard at his schoolwork to overcome the slight case of dyslexia he struggled with to remain eligible for football, in the hopes he could land a scholarship to college before his (hopeful) admission into the Academy after his 21st birthday.

His parents had always been supportive of his dream. His mother Shannon, aka Coach Beiste (yes, shockingly there was a secret at McKinley that that weird Jewish kid with the fro was yet to uncover), worked tirelessly to ensure he made the most of his extra curricular activities and his father, the newest member of the Lima Police Department had been granted special permission to have Sam ride along for a few hours once a week to get a feel for the work involved, after explaining his son's interest in a future with the PD.

Sam was turned around in his seat now, craning his neck to see what was happening. He wanted to get out and exchange a few words with his teammate and ensure he was ok after the accident he'd just gotten into, but one of the rules of these unconventional ride alongs was that he did not engage with any member of the public. So instead, he watched as his Dad questioned his friend, puzzled when he saw his father stop what he was writing in his notebook to throw back his head and laugh. That seemed to infuriate the guy Puck had ran into more.

A movement in the cab of the truck drew Sam's attention. _Was that?_ He shook his head dismissively. Sure, he hadn't been apart of the Glee club for long, but even he was well aware of Rachel and Puck's checkered pasts with each other. He had tortured her for most of her school life, him being the originator of those ridiculous (and fucking embarrassing) slushie facials, and her being his first, and always number one target.

Sam knew they had dated briefly and split when it was clear that the two of them were both pining over other people. They had been kind of friendly with one another in a lukewarm way ever since he'd known them, bit they just didn't seem like a viable couple, not when everything had always been about Puck and Quinn, Finn and Rachel.

But then, Puck and Quinn's relationship had been over from the minute they'd given their daughter up and the lingering feelings between them had faded, thankfully. Sam had been dating Quinn for a while now and he was glad that he didn't have the other jock to contend with, it was hard work keeping every other guy in school away from his girl, he didn't need the resident stud all up on his woman as well. And Finn and Rachel had been broken up for a while, apparently after Rachel had finally realized Finn was never going to put the same effort into their relationship that he was expending to maintaining his popularity.

Honestly, there had been talk about a Puckleberry reunion around the choir room during the last few weeks, but Sam hadn't thought much of it. For one thing, he and Puck were bros, he would know if the two were fucking. They couldn't be, because the mohawked teenager hadn't breathed a word of being interested in the brunette – in fact, Sam had never heard him say anything about her, other than the required 'fucking bat shit crazy' and 'she needs to shut up and put her mouth to better use, like sucking on my cock' remarks Puck muttered whenever Rachel was lecturing them during Glee rehearsals.

But there she was, watching the scene in front of her with as much interest as Sam. He reached for his phone and sent a quick text to Mike. He would never call Finn about this, if he tried Kurt the Fashionista would keep him talking for an hour, and he and Artie had never quite made it to being friends. Chang was his best shot at figuring out what was going on.

_Yo Chang, Puck smashed his truck in2 a Bentley on Main. All ok, but Berry was with him. WTF?_

A minute later he received a reply.

_They're secretly fucking. Bring $$$ 2moro & get in on the action. Hummel has a betting pool on how long it'll be b4 its out. Kitty's $300._

Sam was typing back when his father slid back into the cruiser, still chuckling.

"You're friends with the Puckerman kid aren't you?" Sergeant Evans asked his son, between gaffaws of laughter.

"Yeah, he's on the football team with me and in the Glee club. Is everything ok? He's not in trouble is he?" Sam had met Mrs. Puckerman; she was one scary, intense Jewish lady. He wouldn't wish her evil glare on anyone and when she found out about this, the shit would hit the fan. Puck would probably be grounded until he was 30.

His father shook his head as he started the car, glancing once in his rear view mirror. "He should be in trouble, but I let him off."

Sam glanced at his father as he fastened his seat belt. "It was just a simple fender bender though right? He's licensed, he's insured…."

"He and his girlfriend were engaging in a little of what you kids like to call road head," the elder Evans revealed. "That's called reckless driving where I come from, but I managed to calm the other guy down and besides a hefty increase in insurance premium, no harm no foul."

"Did you let him off because you knew he was my friend?" Sam was grateful, but he knew that it was wrong in the eyes of the law for his dad to cover for Puck if he had seriously been doing the wrong thing.

"Naw, I just felt sorry for him. That little brunette spitfire he had with him looked like she was ready to rip off his balls, he didn't need the added hassle. Besides," he smirked at his son. 'S'not like we haven't all been there."

Sam could only stare. _No, not everyone had been there_. Suddenly his mind went to Quinn and her luscious, candy pink lips. She had been uncharacteristically frisky over the last week, trying to mack on him in the library of all places….he wondered if she was up for taking a little drive tonight.

***/***

The entire Glee club minus Puck, Rachel, Finn and Tina were crowded around a table in the ballroom of the Lima Country Club, after wowing the crowd at the charity gala with five consecutive kick-ass numbers. Their harmonies had been flawless, their energy infectious; they had already received several offers to sing at other town events and several private soirees, much to Mr Schue's delight. He was off now negotiating an appearance fee for those events, or what he called 'donations' since paying them to lend their vocal talent would make them ineligible for competition. That money would go straight into their costume fund for Nationals, coming up in a few months time.

"I can't believe it," Kurt was tutting in frustration. "It's been 6 weeks and not one of our predictions has come true." He was staring down at the small leather bound notebook in which he had written everybody's guesses moodily, as if it had betrayed him.

Santana had her arms crossed and was glaring around the table, "I can't believe it either. Do you know how many skanks I blackmailed into flirting with Puckerman in front of RuPaul? The midget didn't even blink and Puck, he wasn't even interested in them! And these girls were the _skankiest_ of the skanks - back in freshman year he would have been all over that." She shook her head in disgust.

Quinn, who had been resting her chin on Sam's shoulder, straightened. "Well I for one thought for sure it would all come to a head at Homecoming. Did you see Rachel's dress? It was short and tight, and Matt had his hands all over her-"

Mike raised his hand, "I might have had something to do with that. When Rachel didn't claw out Stacey Summers' eyes for kissing Puck after he scored that touchdown a few weeks ago and I found out Matt was taking Rachel to homecoming, I bet Puck would lose it if Matt made the moves on her. But he just stood in the corner of the gym all night, watching-"

"Like some kind of creeper," Santana interjected scornfully with a toss of her dark hair.

"Anyway," Quinn rose her voice to be heard over the muttering, "Mike was right, Puck didn't do _anything_."

"I wouldn't say he did nothing." Mercedes shared a look with Kurt. "He intercepted her on the way back from the restroom and pulled her out of the gym just before the announcements for Homecoming Queen. We didn't see her again after that."

Mike nodded, "It's true. Matt said she disappeared and sent him a text the next morning that just said she got tied up with something."

"Kinky," Kurt coughed and the table erupted in snorts and laughter.

Artie sighed, "I thought for sure I was going to win. I can't understand how a teacher hasn't caught them in the act. I've caught them twice; once was by the wheelchair entrance only a few minutes before the first bell - they're not exactly discreet."

Everyone nodded.

"I saw them in the girl's locker room," Brittany told them vaguely.

"Under the bleachers," Sam offered with a grin.

The locations were shared loud and fast until everyone was speaking over each other.

"The library,"

"Auditorium dressing room,"

"Ms Pillsbury's office; it's made of glass you know, hardly private!"

"The copier room,"

"Athletic equipment shed,"

"Home economics kitchen – which is weird because neither of them even take that class,"

"Janitor's closet on both the first _and_ second floor."

"The AV room." Mike and Artie chorused, grinning at one another.

"Coach Sylvestor's private bathroom," Santana nodded as they all paused and looked at her, impressed at Puck and Rachel's daring.

"Man, gotta give Puckerman props. They've done it everywhere," Sam commented in awe. Quinn punched his shoulder and he yelped, turning on his adorably-apologetic puppy dog look that never failed to make her smile.

Kurt slammed his fist on the table as all seven gazes turned to him in shock, "This is ridiculous! We've all caught them countless times, how can they still think that we don't know what's going on?"

"Because they always give us some lame excuse as to why they are together and why they are wherever we caught them. They think we're gullible enough to believe whatever bull they tell us." Mercedes said. "It's getting old, this needs to stop. I've bet my allowance for the entire month. I can't afford for this to go on any longer."

Just then, Tina joined them, "You guys, you'll never guess what I just saw! Rachel came into the bathroom with mud all over her! I'm not kidding, she was caked in it."

"Mud?" Quinn arched one perfectly sculptured eyebrow. "How did she get that way?"

Tina rolled her eyes, "Do you want my opinion or hear the excuse she tried to feed me?"

"Excuse first," Kurt directed, his hand on his hip.

"Well," Tina leant forward, her hands braced on the table. "She said she was keyed up after the performance and took a walk across the golf course because it's deserted at this time of night and so pretty and romantic in the moonlight-"

Mike mimed gagging and Tina shot him a look, "Anyway, she said the sprinklers came on and saturated her, and she was so startled, she tripped and fell into a mud puddle."

Sam had spied Puck across the room, slipping into the ballroom with his head down, doing his best not to draw attention to himself as he crept to the side of the stage they had performed on. He was rummaging around in the pile of coats they had left there until he retrieved his car keys out of the pockets of a bright blue sapphire coat that Rachel had been wearing earlier in the evening. He might have succeeded in his task to remain incognito had his mud stained, formerly white shirt, not been soaking wet and plastered to his body. Numerous heads were turned in his direction, and even from this distance, Sam could see the streaks of mud over his neck and forearms. "Well that sounds plausible," he said, grinning as they looked at him in askance. He just pointed in Puck's direction. "I'd say the same thing happened to Puck."

"Yeah, they fell in a mud puddle all right," Artie chuckled, when his gaze followed Sam's finger and he saw that Puck's was in much the same state as what Tina had described Rachel. "Repeatedly, on top of each other. Puck did say earlier he'd never had sex on a golf green before. He was joking, but I guess that's just another place he can strike off his list."

"Mercedes was right," Kurt announced, "This has to end. I say we stage an intervention at the next Glee rehearsal and demand they tell us what's going on with them."

"Aww, you can't do that." A new voice interjected in disappointment, "I haven't had a chance to guess yet." It was comical the way all heads whipped in his direction. Finn grinned and leaned over Artie to hand a $50 to Kurt. "Monday, before first period. Puck stakes his claim on Rachel in front of her locker and tells everyone she's off limits." He was confident in his bet and it showed in his tone.

Silence greeted his statement. Some shifted uncomfortably, wondering if Finn was really as ok with Puck and Rachel being involved as he seemed, or whether it was some elaborate show that would end in a fist fight and the dissolution of a friendship that had only just recovered from the last time Puck had got involved with a girl Finn had dubbed as 'his'. The others wondered why Finn sounded so sure. It was Friday now; what was going to change over the course of the weekend that would prompt Puck to publicly announce his and Rachel's involvement when it seemed they were perfectly content in keeping everyone in the dark? Finn looked like he had a plan.

"Ok," Kurt said slowly, accepting the money. "Monday it is." He took out a pen and wrote in his notebook. "And when is it you think they'll break up?"

Finn smiled as he stuffed his hands in his pocket and rocked back on his heels. "You know? I don't think they will." He whistled as he walked away, oblivious to the slack jaws and excited chatter he'd left behind at the table.

"Ever?" Kurt was shrieking.

"What did Finn mean, he doesn't think they will?" Quinn demanded, looking at each of her fellow glee club members in turn.

"What's he got up his sleeve?" Artie wondered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "He must be going to do something of he's so sure it will be Monday morning."

They didn't know what was going to happen; all they knew was that weekend seemed to stretch out for an insufferably long time. When Monday morning came around, all of the Gleeks could be found loitering nonchalantly around the hall where Rachel's locker was situated, their eyes peeled for some kind of activity.

Approximately 10 minutes before first period, Rachel appeared looking slightly dishevelled, a smug looking Noah Puckerman trailing her to her locker. They talked quietly as Rachel readied herself for the day, both so consumed by the other they weren't aware of the attention being paid to them or the fact that Finn, after mouthing a 'watch this' to their assembled friends, was approaching them with a look of determination.

The Quarterback shuffled his feet and adopted his most endearing puppy dog expression as he deliberately pushed gently between Rachel and Puck. "Hey Rach, can we talk?"

Rachel looked up at him in surprise, and after glancing over his shoulder into Puck's rapidly narrowing eyes, she said reluctantly, "Oh, um…alright."

Puck took a step back but made no move to leave. Whatever Hudson had to say, he wanted to hear it. He crossed his arms, glaring daggers into his former best friends back.

"So, I've been thinking a lot about us Rach, about why we broke up, and I've come to realize I was so unfair to you. I need to apologize."

"Really Finn, I appreciate that but your apology is unnecessary and in any case, it is several months too late."

Finn ducked his head and looked sheepish, "Aw, don't say that Rach." He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. He thought he could feel Puck's own hands curling into fists and it took a concentrated effort not to smile in satisfaction. His plan was genius. "I was so stupid Rachel. I took it for granted that you'd always be there when I should have realized how lucky I was to have a girl who was so into me, who loved me – flaws and all – and who deserved the same devotion and faith that she always showed me."

The Gleeks watched as Puck's body tensed and the scowl that took over his face was more menacing than any could ever recall ever seeing. "God I wish I had brought popcorn," Kurt whispered to Mercedes, practically giddy with anticipation. Mercedes made a shhh-ing sound and Kurt mimed zipping his lips.

"I was so worried about what other people thought of me, about how Glee club and dating you would affect my popularity, that I let that insecurity rule our relationship. That wasn't fair to you, Rach. You deserve someone who will put you first, someone who thinks you're more important than football and social status and all that-"

Finn's body was blocking Rachel from his view and Puck had this sinking feeling in his gut that she was looking up at him with that lovesick expression she had perfected over the months of dating the freakishly tall male lead. The tenuous hold he had on himself snapped. "Listen to what the lady said, jackass. Your fucking apology is a couple of months too late." He pushed back in between them and slung a proprietal arm around Rachel's shoulders, smirking triumphantly at his friend. "See, now she _does_ have that. There is someone who wants to put her first: _Me_. You fucked up and now a real man has stepped in to treat her the way she deserves to be treated. "

Rachel was staring up at him in blatant adoration, "Noah-"

Puck shook his head, his eyes still fixed on Finn. "Back off," he growled warningly. "You had your shot, and you don't get another one. Rachel's my girlfriend now and I'm gonna make damn sure she's reminded every day that she's more important to me than a fucking rep that's gonna mean nothing after high school anyway."

Finn arched his eyebrow, "You're prepared to take the shit that comes your way?" He asked, making his tone seem doubtful.

"You think I give a flying fuck if Azimo and Karofsky give me a hard time?" Puck lifted his chin, staring the other boy down. "Fucking bring it."

"Noah!" This time Rachel refused to be ignored. She shoved her books into her locker and lifted up on her tip toes to wrap her arms around his neck and attack his lips. "Do you mean that?" She asked breathlessly between kisses.

"Fuck woman," he swatted her behind, catching her lip between his teeth. "I told you I didn't care who knew we were together. Can we stop this secrecy shit now? Your dads are warming up to me and as hot as the sneak fucks are, I'm kind of over hiding how I feel about you behind closed doors. Can you just hold my hand in the fucking hallway so these douchetards know you're off limits?"

She nodded, smiling blindingly as she kissed him and stepped back, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. He tugged her in by that same hand and kissed her again before grabbing out the books she had just shoved in her locker.

"C'mon baby, I'll walk you to class." As Rachel shut her locker and allowed Puck to carry her books and lead her to class, applause broke out all around them as the Gleeks hollered and clapped and shouted that it was about time they got their act together.

Rachel pressed her flushed face into Puck's shoulder as they walked away; he just flipped the lot of them off before wrapping his arm back around his girlfriend's waist and kissing the top of her head.

Finn turned back to his friends with a satisfied smile. "And that is how it's done." He told them smugly. "Kurt, you better invest that cash wisely coz I think in about 5 years time it's gonna be me collecting that payday."

***/***

It was actually 11 years later that all 10 of them were sitting around a large table at the lavish Berry-Puckerman reception after a short, romantic ceremony that had concluded with Puck serenading his new wife with a song he had written especially for her, a song that would become number one on the Billboard charts only weeks after the couple returned from their honeymoon. They were all looking up at the bridal table to where Puck and Rachel were exchanging soft kisses and basking in a few minutes of peace as the 200 assembled guests allowed them a few minutes to themselves.

Truthfully, while each of the former members of New Directions had learned never to bet against the couple who had stayed together and never once even considered breaking up after high school - even when attending separate colleges a thousand miles apart and living on opposite coasts while Rachel was taking Broadway by storm and Puck was making a name for himself as a singer-songwriter out in LA - they never thought they'd actually be there, celebrating the couple's nuptials.

Rachel had always maintained that she didn't need a piece of paper to confirm what they themselves already knew, that they were going to be together forever, and when pressed about the subject of marriage by the paparazzi, their families and their close friends, she had always laughed and said it already felt like she was married to him; he'd already kissed her in front of those they held near and dear years ago, and announced that he was hers, and she was his. What else was there?

Surprisingly though, it had been Puck that had insisted she wear his ring and 'buy a fucking white dress, pick out some flowers and say I do in front of all those asshats that doubted we were going to make it this far'. Rachel had no idea who he was referring to, because there wasn't a person (or gossip columnist) alive that didn't believe that Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman were end game. But she had agreed, only because she knew that ever since the arrival of their daughter Melody Ava Berry-Puckerman 14 months before, Noah had been sold on the idea of a traditional family unit. He wanted Rachel to take his name, he wanted their daughter to not have to hyphenate hers, and he wanted a white gold band on her finger that warned those douches that always seemed to hit on her (claiming they didn't read magazines, listen to the radio, watch television, or have fucking eyes) that she was already spoken for.

They watched their little girl scoot across the dance floor in her pretty white and pink dress, squealing as she evaded a frazzled looking Becca Puckerman who, as the groom's little sister and one of the only people in the bridal party legally unable to drink yet, had been assigned babysitting duties for the day. Rachel smiled softly and glanced up at her new husband whose gaze was also following the little badass in training who had inherited her mother's good looks and her father's penchant for trouble making.

"Do you think we're going to love the next one as much as we love her?" she wondered, pressing her lips against his jaw. Puck looked down at her, the hand that was curled around her waist dipped so his fingers brushed along her abdomen, already swelling with Pucklebaby #2, but hidden behind layers of tulle and silk.

"Yeah babe, how could we not? Our genes create some fucking gorgeous kids; you can't help but love 'em." She laughed, her brown eyes sparkling up at him as her fingers laced with his and rested comfortably over her stomach.

A crackling microphone drew their attention and to their surprise – because the speeches were already over and done with – they saw Kurt on stage with the band, a large white envelope in his hands.

"Ahem, if I can have your attention Ladies and Gentlemen, I have a special presentation to make. Finn," Kurt made a motion with his hand, "will you come up here please?"

Rachel looked questioningly at Puck who shrugged and lifted his water glass to his lips. When Finn was towering over Kurt on stage, waving dopily at the table of their friends, the small, petite man continued. "11 years ago, the members of William McKinley's National Champion Glee Club took bets on the duration of a relationship very few could see lasting beyond a few weeks." Rachel gasped indignantly and Puck snickered, once again making a 'fuck you' gesture to his long time friends, some of who were looking genuinely disgruntled.

"But there was one man who refused to give Puck and Rachel's relationship an expiration date, and that man was the one who decided to take it upon himself to give them a friendly shove in the right direction, when they were hiding the truth of their blossoming love in janitors closets, bathroom stalls and in the cab of his truck."

Puck nodded, having what he'd long been suspecting confirmed; Finn had been playing him that day. He hadn't been trying to get back together with Rachel, he was pushing Puck into claiming her, oblivious to the fact that Puck had already done that, whether she – or any of their friends – had been aware of it at the time.

Meanwhile, Kurt's statement had caused a ruckus in another part of the reception hall. "I knew it!" They heard Rachel's daddy yell out, "Did you hear that Andrew? They were sneaking around that whole time Princess was supposed to be grounded -"

Puck chuckled as Rachel's dad Andy met his gaze and rolled his eyes, "Relax James, I think Noah won us over a long time ago. I don't think we can ground her now when he's finally made an honest woman of her and has fathered the second most adorable little girl either of us have ever seen." He winked at his beaming daughter as their guests' tinkled with laughter.

"Anyhow," Kurt continued, "Three hundred and seventy five dollars, when invested wisely can equate to a sizeable payday and I think there's no better day than today for my old friend Finn to claim what is rightfully his. Finn, in this envelope, you'll find a check for twelve thousand, four hundred and six dollars."

The crown collectively gasped as Kurt held the microphone and nodded sagely to the room, a wide smile stretching across his face, "Yes, see. You should always bank on true love conquering all – it makes us all richer," he winked towards the newlyweds, "And not just financially."

The guests awed and Kurt curtsied, handing the envelope and the microphone to a stunned looking Finn who fumbled with both. "Ah, thanks dude." He looked out over the tables, gulping nervously when it registered how many people were focused on him at that very moment. "So, I guess drinks are on me?" He joked. There was a resounding applause and Finn chuckled, "Just kidding, it's an open bar." He reminded them with a grin.

"I'm not good with speeches, so I guess there's just one thing to do." Finn gestured to a waiter who was standing off to the side and secured himself a glass of champagne. "Another toast. To Puck and Rachel, for showing us how to beat the odds."

As the guests held their glasses aloft, Puck grinned and kissed his wife soundly. _Fuck yeah, _he thought to himself._ You don't bet against a Puckerman._

_~ fin ~ _

Prompts from missphenix:

**(814): SEEEEXXX PLEASE**

**(306): They both told everyone they fell in a mud puddle**

**(1-306): Oh they definitely fell in the mud, repeatedly, on top of each other**

**(530): As soon as the judge read that I rear ended the car from getting roadhead he chuckled. You know he's been there before.**


End file.
